Dinner At 221b Baker Street
by OneHellOfAMarshmellow
Summary: John cooks, Sherlock helps, and there is a little Harry Potter discussed. Just some domestic fluff.


**Dinner At 221b Baker Street**

 **. o . O . o .**

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sorting out his mind palace when he was finally drawn out by the delicious scent permeating from the kitchen. Before even opening his eyes he could tell that John had picked up groceries on his way home and was currently making something in the kitchen. He slipped off the couch pulling his robe tightly around himself to fight the chill and made his way over to the kitchen. His socks and careful stepping prevented him making any noise as he walked over to his roommate, before coming to a stop a few feet away to silently observe John chop the tomatoes for the salad he was preparing. Despite his effort to sneak up on the doctor John looked over his shoulder as if he'd known exactly where he'd been the entire time and flashed him a smile before refocusing on his task.

"Finally aware of the world then?"

"It would seem so." He replied as he walked up next to John. "What are you cooking?" He asked, which earned him a raised eyebrow and if asking him 'What? Didn't you already deduce it?' which of course he did -lasagna- but he had learned that it was considered polite to make conversation.

"Lasagna, and you will be eating it, but I didn't put much tomato sauce in it, I know you hate it when it's runny."

"I'm sure it will taste fantastic." John didn't look up, but Sherlock would have had to be blind to not see his silly grin. "Shall I make the dressing?"

"That would be perfect, thank you."

"Balsamic, correct?" Sherlock asked already taking out the ingredients for it.

"Of course. So how's your mind palace? Finish up all your work there?" John asked tapping the side of his own head, a hint of teasing in his voice, before he started slicing the mushrooms.

"It's doing fine. I was just installing a quidditch pitch. Not done with it yet, and I'm not sure of what use it would be for yet."

"That seems nice." He replied automatically, but quickly took a double take. "Excuse me? A Quidditch pitch? Like from Harry Potter?"

"Yes, you seemed very fond of the series, considering you have read all the books and how you still cry when Sirius Black dies in the movie. And there are some similarities between the castle of Hogwarts and my palace, mine of course being better in structure and design, as well as being much more organized than the schooling system they have."

"I do not cry." John protested bringing the knife down harder than before as he cut up the red peppers, as he bit his lip in embarrassment.

"No, of course not, how silly of me." They didn't speak for a moment before John seemed to relent a little and didn't seem capable of holding back a smile.

"Ok, maybe I sometimes I tear up a little." He finally admitted sheepishly.

"You, as always, are right John." He said sarcastically. Johns only reply was to elbow him in the ribs, while trying to hold back a giggle as he finished up the salad.

Anything more they may have said was cut off as the timer for the oven went off, and John went to grab the oven mits to take the dish out. "Sherlock do you think you could..."

"Already on it." Sherlock interrupted him, showing him he was already putting the ingredients in the bowl with the lettuce and tossing it.

John rested the glass dish on the top of the oven and scooped a generous serving on each plate. Sherlock then dished out some salad and then drizzled on his homemade dressing for the both of them. Before they moved to sit in their respective spots across from each other at the table and dug in.

The two of them had been eating in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Sherlock spoke again, not looking up from his plate as he attempted to look casual. "If you were interested I could always teach you how to make you own?"

"My own what?" John asked looking up at him as he took a bite, causing the detective to roll his eyes.

"A mind palace John."

"Oh." Was all John answered with as he stared into the distance, brows furrowed as he chewed thoughtfully. "I don't think I could, don't you have to have to a lot of focus for that?"

"Anyone is capable of creating one, it's hardly that complex, well mine is but you wouldn't be making anything like mine, not at first at least. You are right though, about it requiring focus and some patience, but you are capable of that." John hummed, neither saying yes or no to the idea of making a mind palace, he would have to think on it. He wasn't sure if Sherlock would be a patient enough to teach him. They were once again surrounded in silence as they ate, until, yet again, Sherlock broke it.

"I hadn't known you could cook, well, until recently, it's quite a change."

"What do you mean? I was always cooking when I lived here before?"

"Prepackaged food does not count."

"But..." He started to protest weakly.

"It was either that, toast, toast and Jam, toast and beans, take away, food from Ms. Hudson, or we would just eat out."

"Psh, that's not all I made." He insisted.

"Really? Do tell what I missed." Sherlock drawled.

"I will have you know I also made toast and eggs." John said, back straightening as if in pride, trying to pull off a pretend smug look even as his lips twitched.

"I hate eggs." Sherlock stated, nose scrunching up in distaste. The two of them stared down the other, a glitter of amusement behind each of their eyes before they both broke and started laughing.

"Yeah I got pretty sick of them too." John breathed out between chuckles before he started to lift his fork to take a bite only to then bring it back down again, a look of concern on his face. "I can't believe I didn't ever make a real meal, you would have thought I would have tried to make you something healthy considering how little you would eat."

"I think you were more concerned with stuffing whatever you could in me."

"To true." He said with a shrug, and finally going through with his bite.

"I'm assuming that this change in cooking talents would have something to do with Mary no doubt?" Sherlock asked, not sure how John would react. Sherlock was always a little hesitant to bring Mary up, especially when John had first moved back in, but he was better about it now. And wasn't it supposed to be good for people to learn how to talk about things like this?

"Well, I guess, I've always been a pretty good cook, but have been too lazy to do it much. Mary preferred home cooked meals though, but since she was a bloody terrible cook it was up to me to make them."

"Well I'm glad you're making them for me now, I've been missing out all these years it seems."

"Yeah sorry about that." He said somewhat sarcastically. "When I first moved in with you I was kind of out of practice, you know, with being in the army for the previous few years."

"There are no excuses for you John." The detective declared playfully, earning himself an eye roll from his companion. "So how did you learn then?"

"What can't you deduce it?"

"I can't know everything, besides you don't have many things from before your army days."

"Admitting then that you've snooped through my stuff?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

"Answer the question." Was all that John got back along with an eye roll of his own.

"I learned from both my parents. When I was younger the two of them would take turns on days when they'd cook. They would have me and Harry help sometimes with the easy stuff when we were younger, and when were old enough started having us do it by ourselves. Though it always seemed to be me doing it considering how little Harry came home early enough to do it in high school." He said a little sadly, but then quickly moved on before lingering on it. "Everyone in cooking ed was either jealous of me or wanted to be my partner. Man, I've gotten a few girls 'cause of it."

"I'll be sure to add that to the list of hidden talents on your online dating profile."

"Ha, bloody ha," He replied sarcastically, before he seemed to rethink it. "Tell me you didn't actually make me one?"

To which he received a suspicious looking smirk before Sherlock answered. "Of course not John."

"Arse." John muttered, before taking the last bite of his meal, Sherlock already having finished his. "You know, I'm not the only one who's changed, you have too you know."

"How so?" He asked, eyebrows crinkling together in confusion as the two of them started to clean up. John just shrugged not answering at first, smiling as he started filling the dishwasher.

"When I first moved back to baker street, there was nothing I wanted more than for everything going back to the way it was, well, _before_." John said, indicating the time before the fall. Sherlock listened even more confused now and just a little apprehensive. "I was afraid of everything changing between us, never being able to get back to the way we had so easily fit together. But it's like everything changed while nothing changed at all, and you know I find myself liking it quite a bit." He finished with a deep breath finally looking up to the dark haired man with a shy smile. "I'm glad things have changed for us, if that makes any sense to you, it's like we're closer than before."

John looked back down and then closed the dishwasher, and then started to get the plastic wrap to cover the lasagna. Sherlock didn't say anything, and after a moment of hesitation he walked up to the shorter man and hesitantly wrapped his arms around him. John didn't hesitate for a moment before wrapping his arms around the other man's waist and squeezing them into a closer embrace, and taking a deep breath of Sherlock's expensive shampoo before letting go again. John coughed once before speaking again, as if trying to get himself back together again.

"Yes, well, thank you. I'm going to go down ask Ms. Hudson if she would like any of our food, I think I heard her come back while we were eating."

"Very well, tell her I said hello." And John gave a nod, before walking out of the room and down the stairs.

Sherlock heard the faint sounds of chatter coming from below as he returned to lying down on his spot on the sofa, and went about adding some bludgers to fly around the new Quidditch pitch in his mind palace. And if he added a smiling John with windswept hair flying around in a Quidditch uniform, well, no one would ever know.

 **. o . O . o .**

 **Happy New Year everyone! I wish each and everyone one of you an amazing 2018!**

 **I just wanted to post a quick and cute little story to start the new year with, hope you enjoy Sherlock and John finally having some happy normal everyday moments that are not filled with a bunch of emotional angst. They deserve some happiness!**

 **Q/A: I think Johns new year resolution would be to write more, get to get to work on time and to actually stay through his whole shift, while Sherlock's would be to solve a number 10 case, what do you think? And what is your new years resolution? Mine is to write more and to finish and start many of my planned projects, one of which is my Luna Lovegood cosplay!**


End file.
